


Nelson's Meats

by titC



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Cameos, Gen, Gift Fic, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Through the Years, matt's butt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: Theo Nelson has never been as flamboyant, successful, and popular as his outgoing brother. He never thought he had a chance with Foggy's best friend...
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Theo Nelson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 47
Collections: DDE’s 2020 New Year’s Day Exchange





	Nelson's Meats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DJClawson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJClawson/gifts).



> Written for DJClawson's prompts _deli_ and _Matt/Theo_. Hope you like it!  
> Big thanks to [PixelByPixel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelByPixel) for beta heroics and hand-holding ♥

The first time Theo met Matt Murdock, he’d just resigned himself to be a butcher in his parents’ shop while Foggy had been going for greater, better things. He wasn’t bitter, really; Theo didn’t have any better idea of what to do in life anyway. Foggy had always been the smart one, the one with the great report cards and the favorite Nelson boy of all the teachers they’d had in common.

Theo never had good report cards; he didn’t have a head for math or a love of poetry, but he was good with a knife and he’d grown up watching his parents. So a butcher he became, and he knew he’d be the Nelson of Nelson’s Meats, years down the line.

On the day Matt became an honorary Nelson, Theo had just started training after months trying to get other jobs and never really finding more than temp stuff that didn’t pay well. He was contemplating the hams in the display when Foggy came in, dragging the mysterious but much-talked-about roommate along.

“Hey, Theo! Leave the meat aside for a moment and come greet your brother; we’ve braved the cold and the crowds to get here.”

“It’s not that cold,” the roommate said. Matt Murdock was Foggy’s exact opposite: clean-shaven with short, dark hair. Ma was going to _love_ him. Theo left the hams to hug Foggy and stand awkwardly in front of them: how did it work, with a blind guy? He could hold out his hand but the guy wouldn't see it, right?

“It _is_ cold! Matt, right in front of you is my less handsome brother Theo. Not that you can tell he’s less handsome, but I feel you should know.”

 _Oh, shit_. Matt Murdock? Had a very nice smile.“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say.” He held out his hand and Theo shook it, all the while trying not to notice the floppy hair or the surprisingly strong grip. “Mine don’t work, so I just assume everyone is good-looking.”

Was that a smirk? Did the blind man smirk at him? Was he _flirting_? “Uh,” Theo managed.

“And yet somehow you have a knack for always finding the best-looking girls anywhere you go. Not that I’m jealous.”

“Of course not.”

“It’s the handsome, wounded duck vibe he’s got going on for him,” Foggy stage-whispered to Theo. “Works all the time.”

Well. Theo definitely got the handsome bit. And wounded… well. There was the cane, sure. And the glasses. He remembered the story of that kid who lost his eyesight saving a guy from a truck, of course. It had been the talk of the Kitchen, back then; and when Jack Murdock had been shot dead Ma had clucked and commiserated about that poor blind kid, and Dad had said it was a shame, that Jack had been a fine boxer. But then life went on and they'd all forgotten about it, right until Foggy called to tell them about his new roommate.

Who was standing there, with the smile and the hair and the silence that was now growing awkward with every minute. “So, uh. You’re going to be a lawyer too, right?”

“A defense attorney, yeah.”

“Matty wants to save everyone,” Foggy said. “I’m the voice of reason, of course.”

“Of course.” Theo cleared his throat. “Like that time you convinced me it was perfectly reasonable for us to go to Coney Island on our own.”

“It was!”

“You were five.”

“You’re the older brother, Theo. If anyone should have known better, it was you.”

“See what I’ve had to put up with all these years?” Theo said. “I mean.”

“Don't worry, I hear you,” Matt replied; and then he laughed the dorkiest laugh ever.

 _Fuck me_ , Theo thought. _Literally, please_.

That was the first time Theo Nelson met Matt Murdock, and the last time he had any doubt about his own preferences: yep, he definitely was into boys, too.

Theo’s gigantic crush on Matt remained just that: a crush, never to become anything else. He had girlfriends, he had boyfriends; he was the potential son-in-law with a trade and one day a shop, the steady if slightly boring guy that all the parents loved. The lovers, though? They never lasted. Everyone had fun, then everyone went their way; Theo couldn’t muster the necessary enthusiasm and commitment.

Meanwhile, Matt and Foggy were joined at the hip, and Matt was a regular at the family table. Foggy brought him along for most holidays, and everyone loved him. How could they not? He was charismatic, charming, smart; he hit it off with the old ladies just as easily as with the young ones. Bess Mahoney had literally cooed the first time he’d offered to walk to church with her for the Christmas midnight mass, and she was hard to please.

Next to him or Foggy, Theo was well aware he was no competition. He was invisible, the reliable son who stayed with the parents and would take over when they’d retire. He wasn’t flamboyant, he wasn’t the one getting a fancy education (and sizable student debt), he would never have a shiny desk in a shiny office and wear swanky suits.

But then one Friday night in the middle of term the shop doorbell jingled and, unannounced, Foggy and Matt came in and went straight to the storage room. Theo followed them; he didn’t have to wait long before his brother gave him a half-hug.

“Hey, Theo,” and from Foggy’s tone Theo knew right away something was wrong.

“One fully-trained butcher brother at your service,” he tried in as upbeat a voice he could muster in the face of Foggy’s worried expression and Matt’s terribly empty one. “Want some smoked ham? It’s a masterpiece, I swear.”

“What do you say, Matt? What about some nice, Nelson-approved food? Protein, right? Protein’s good, yeah?”

Matt shook his head. If he’d been sighted, he’d probably have been looking longingly at the door; as it was he kept his face half-turned towards it and Foggy kept a very obvious hand around Matt’s biceps instead of the usual opposite. “Not hungry,” he finally muttered.

“Buddy, you haven’t been hungry in two weeks; how you’re still standing is a mystery. This here is the cure for what ails you: cured meats!”

“Foggy…”

“Right, you're tired, I get it. Maybe you can go and have a quick nap before dinner? You know where my bedroom is.”

“But…”

“You can use my bed, it’s fine. I’ll set up the cot for myself later, no big deal.”

“It’s _your_ bed, I shouldn't…”

“Matty, if you don’t go right this minute I am going to go find my mother and sic her on your sorry ass, you hear me?”

“She’s in the basement with Dad,” Theo said helpfully.

Foggy shifted so his shoes scraped the floor. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Matt seemed to shrink in on himself; his shoulders went down and his entire posture went from too upright to weary old man. “Okay. Thanks, Fogs.”

Theo and his brother watched him shuffle to the stairs and slowly go up, and Foggy kept quiet until they heard his door squeak open and closed.

“Holy shit.” Matt looked heartbroken, defeated. It was doing things to Theo’s own heart to see him like that. “What happened?”

“You know what? I couldn’t get the actual story out of him.” Foggy finally tore his eyes away from the staircase and looked at Theo. “There was this woman; he was really into her and then… I don’t know. He came back to the dorm in the middle of the night, his hands covered with blood and without his coat or cane; I don’t even know how he managed to get back home. He’d been doing all sorts of stupid shit while he’d been with her; missing classes and not turning in papers and – can you imagine, Theo?” No, he couldn’t. Not straight-As Matt Murdock, the only true rival Foggy had ever met grades-wise. “Since then he’s been… well, worse than what you’ve just seen; he’s trying hard right now.” Not very convincingly, in Theo’s opinion. “Took me a week to get him out of bed and in class, and I think the only reason he’s letting me take him places is because he doesn’t have the strength to resist. I don’t think he’s eaten more than the crackers I’ve made him force down. At least the professors have been understanding and they’ve given him an extension, so he’s not going to lose his scholarship, I don’t think.”

“So you figured a dose of Nelsons would help?”

“Well, he does love the food, right? And Ma will pamper him; maybe that’s what he needs?” Foggy shrugged. “I’ll just go downstairs, warn the parents.”

Theo patted his brother’s shoulder and went back to man the shop, wondering what invisible Theo Nelson could do that Foggy couldn't. Well, there was one thing: making really, really good sandwiches. He eyed the row of fancy hams, the Italian pickles, the cheeses, and the bread from the bakery next door: one feel-good, post-breakup Nelson Special coming up.

He got to work.

“Hey,” Theo said as he knocked softly on the not-quite-closed door. Maybe Matt was asleep, after all.

“Come in.” He wasn’t.

Theo pushed the door open and walked in, a plate in one hand and a pack of beers in the other. “Made you a sandwich,” he said. “In case you’re hungry.”

Matt blinked but didn’t move from where he was, curled up on top of Foggy’s bed. He’d changed into sweats and pulled up the hood of his shirt before lying down, and he’d taken off his glasses. Theo realized he’d never seen him without, before; but his eyes looked normal. Well, right until it was obvious they didn’t focus quite right.

“I’m not really hungry,” Matt replied. “Maybe later.”

“Yeah, maybe. So you, uh. You don’t look, I mean. You look… tired? So I thought, maybe, if you don’t want to go down for dinner… I know Ma and Dad can be a lot, sometimes.” He slipped the plate on the bedside table. “So, maybe… for later?” Okay, could anyone be more awkward? Probably not.

“Thanks.” Then Matt’s head moved a little and he added, “Smells nice.”

“I hope so; I only used the best ingredients.”

“Oh. Well, now I really have to try some, right?”

“Were you planning not to?”

“You got me,” but he said it with a tiny twitch of his lips and Theo decided it was a win.

He dropped the beer on the table next to the plate and asked, “Wanna talk about it, or wanna drink about it?”

“Oh, drink. Definitely drink. Foggy wouldn't let me and I… yeah, drink. Absolutely.”

Matt finally sat up and patted the empty space by his side, and Theo didn’t let that occasion go to waste.

Foggy found them two hours later, leaning against each other and with a bunch of empty bottles around them. Matt was mostly asleep, not quite drooling on Foggy’s pillow but his face relaxed; and Theo… well, Theo wasn’t that far gone, but he absolutely wasn’t fit for the family table.

“Holy fuck,” Foggy said. “I’d been trying to keep him off the booze so he didn’t do any more stupid shit but…”

“Stupid shit?” Theo didn’t slur as much as he would have expected. _Go me_ , he thought.

“Yeah, like… You know, shit. Okay, and you got him to eat too? Sleep and eat?”

“Mnot sleep’n,” Matt said.

“Shut up, Matty, you are, and a good thing it is.” Foggy managed to budge Matt enough that he could tug the covers from under his body and throw them over him, and then dragged Theo out and to his own room.

“He liked my sandwich,” Theo told Foggy. It was very important that Foggy knew. “Said I should take cooking lessons, too.”

“Okay, all right, that’s fine. I _think_ , though, that you should go to bed right now, too. You’re not quite as far gone as he is, but you definitely need to sleep it off.”

“But Ma and Dad…”

“I’ll talk to them, it’s fine. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Gonna be hungover.”

“Damn right you’ll be.”

Foggy switched the light off and left, and Theo was aware of nothing else until the next morning when he did have a terrible hangover (although Matt’s looked even worse), but also started making plans to learn more about food and how to prepare it. Being a butcher was all fine and good but having a real deli section, playing with condiments and spices, adding a few tables and chairs to the shop so people could sit down and enjoy the food? That, he decided, sounded way better than taking over his parents’ shop because he was trapped into it anyway.

And that was the day Theo Nelson started to think big.

Years passed, and with it Theo’s crush and his doubts about his not-quite-chosen career. Foggy became a fully-fledged lawyer and opened a firm with Matt while Theo developed Nelson’s Meats. They all drifted apart a little, everyone busy with their own life; Foggy had this on and off relationship with the blond powerhouse on heels and Theo tried to put a bit more of himself in his relationships. He was over thirty now, and Ma kept telling him he could settle down like his cousins, like a good son.

“We want to see our grandchildren grow up,” she said.

Theo didn’t want to have children. He didn’t want to settle down, either; he didn’t really feel the need. He had the shop, his experiments with preparing food, his clients, his friends; Matt, Foggy, and Karen came by from time to time and they always had a great time all together. He didn’t need anything more, even though he still felt a little pang when he ended the night with Matt in the shop, letting him guess what ingredients he’d used in such and such recipe. Matt was very good at it, even blind drunk (Matt’s own joke, of course; no one else would dare apart from, maybe, Foggy), and he did have great ideas sometimes. And sometimes they were really terrible or only were revealed to be so once Theo tried them a few days later, booze-free. But it was always fun, and if their arms or hands brushed a little more than was strictly casual, nothing ever came from it.

He did notice Matt looked a bit tender sometimes; he held himself like things hurt and bruises or a black eye would show on his face. _A door,_ he’d say, _I didn’t pay attention_. Matt shrugged it off, but he really should work less and sleep more. Anyway, then he’d start throwing a bunched-up paper napkin at Theo and laughing like a loon, and Theo would put it out of his mind.

He started to have issues with suppliers right as Nelson & Murdock were going up against Fisk, and he didn’t make the link until much later. Foggy and Matt were struggling for a while too, but things settled. Fisk went to prison, Nelson’s Meats was doing great… what else could happen?

Well, it turned out _a lot of shit_ could happen. Nelson’s Meats had been doing well before but the problems started to accumulate and Theo didn’t have a head for the business side of things. Ma and Dad were starting to show their age – Dad’s hands were becoming less steady, Ma’s eyes less sharp… And then the unbreakable Matt-and-Foggy unit had a mysterious falling out; Matt stopped visiting and worse, Foggy moved on to a high-profile firm and in with Marci, who definitely wasn’t going to settle in the Kitchen. Theo’s brother moved further away, and it felt like his world shrank a bit more round the shop, the parents.

A small life in a small deli.

He avoided thinking about it too much and did what he could to keep the shop afloat, even if it didn’t always seem very legit, but he really couldn’t imagine knocking on Foggy’s door to ask for money. No, Theo might not have the sharp suits, snazzy new haircut, and fancy high-rise apartment, but he still had his pride. He was the one keeping the family business running, the one with regulars who came again and again for his specialties as well as his more experimental dishes. He was successful, too; he didn’t need Foggy’s help.

And then one day, as Theo was working on cleaning the ash away from the shop windows after the skyscraper collapsed in the financial district, Foggy and Karen came. And from their faces, he knew it was bad news.

“What happened?” he asked as he dropped the sponge back in the bucket. The soapy water splashed his pants leg, but he forgot about it when Foggy spoke.

“It’s Matt,” he said, then grimaced. Karen’s eyes were very red and she looked about three seconds away from crying.

“What? What about Matt?”

“Let’s take this inside, Ma and Dad will want to know too.”

Once they were in and Foggy had told them about Matt’s disappearance and probable death, Karen did cry. So did Ma, and Dad did the stoic thing he did when he was shaken, too. And Foggy… looked like Theo felt.

“He was last seen with them, the powered people I told you about. They don’t know where he was when the charges went off, and they haven’t said much apart from that.”

“He’s blind,” Ma said. “If he has to run to escape…” She blew her nose again. “If he _had_ to escape, he can’t have, oh…”

Theo looked at the half-cleaned windows, the ash still covering part of them. Maybe there was a part of him in there too. Ashes to ashes, hah. He’d like that. He’d _have liked_ that.

“Is there a service?” he asked.

“Officially he’s just…” Foggy’s voice broke. “Uh, missing, so not for a while.”

“He’s not dead,” Karen said. “I can feel it.”

Foggy looked at her, then back at his hands folded on the worn kitchen table. “We don’t know. We can’t know. But…”

“It’s not looking good, no.” Dad pushed his chair back and fiddled with the coffee machine, then sighed and opened the liquor cabinet. “Right. Who wants some?” He was holding a bottle by the neck; Theo squinted and recognized the label: it was the special whiskey that they got out for wakes.

“Edward,” Ma said.

“What?”

Ma stared at the bottle, finally nodded, and got up to get the glasses.

Theo sweated his hangover out the next day as he finished cleaning the shop windows. The sunlight streaming in through the clean glass should have felt like a blessing heralding spring, but somehow it didn’t.

Life went on anyway.

Nelson’s Meats, however, wasn’t doing so good. Financial problems kept accumulating, suppliers were either unreliable or simply refusing to deliver, and Theo couldn’t figure out why. The clients still came in and he even got new ones, but he still ended up signing shady-looking deals just to keep the shop open. What else could he have done, anyway?

A skinny blonde guy came by one afternoon wearing clothes somewhere between ‘actual hobo’ and ‘kid that came from money and could afford to look like a hobo’. He looked at the goods like he hadn’t seen food in a while, and Theo braced himself to throw him out politely but firmly. He’d let him have some leftovers that wouldn't sell, but the guy had better not decide to camp in font of the shop hoping for more.

“I can’t decide,” probably-hobo said. “It’s all looking too – look, I’ll have a bit of everything.”

A bit of… “What’s _a bit_ , and _everything_? That’s a lot of money, and of food.”

“Oh, it’s not just for me,” and then apparently-not-hobo got one of those fancy black cards out of his pocket. He fumbled it, caught it before it fell to the floor, and grinned like a kid who’d just scored a goal as he put it down near the till. “But I do plan on tasting a bit of everything myself.”

“Do you want to taste a few things now?”

“Nah, it all looks great; I’ll just get enough to feed,” he frowned and moved his fingers, “about eight people? And maybe have some leftovers.”

That was when it hit Theo: he’d seen that guy’s face before, he knew him. “Well, you’ll have to come back and let me know what you like best.”

“Sure!” Not-hobo gestured at the first ham and Theo started cutting slices. “I’ve always wondered about this shop. Well, I have since I came back to New York. Your brother’s a good guy, I like him; so I thought I should visit the family shop.”

“You know Foggy?”

“Who doesn’t, in our little… Oh!” He extended a hand over the counter, watched Theo handling the second ham, and took it back with a self-conscious expression. “Yeah, sorry, you're… Uh, so. Danny, Danny Rand. The name. _My_ name! Sorry, I should have started with that.”

Theo had to shut the slicer down before he had an accident. “Danny Rand. The, er, Iron Fist guy?”

“Yep, that’s me. Hey, you alright?”

Not really. “You’re one of the last people to have seen a friend alive.”

“Oh,” Rand said. “Matt.”

“Right.” He turned the slicer back on again; he was on the job after all.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Rand nodded when Theo pointed at the first salad, and watched him mechanically fill the containers, one after the other. “He was a great guy,” he continued. “We got separated at one point and he… stayed back.”

“He stayed back? How do you know?”

Rand made a face. “Er, I mean, he… stayed back. He wanted to talk someone into leaving the building, then we were all running for our lives, and when we got out he wasn’t with us.”

There was more to that story. Rand had absolutely no poker face, and Theo could tell he was trying to keep from revealing too much. But what did he care? The end result was all that mattered, and it turned out it all ended with Matt’s death. _Disappearance_ , Foggy called it. Matt Murdock, Catholic lawyer and blind idiot, had run into a skyscraper full of charges ready to explode, and he hadn’t come out. Theo had never been the smart one, but he wasn’t dumb either; he could tell a big chunk of story was missing. But the end result was still the same.

Theo cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know.” He made a few tidy piles of the containers and waved at the piles of food on the counter. “Anything else?” he asked.

“No, thanks. For what it’s worth, we miss him too. Jess and Luke and me, I mean. We didn’t know him long, not as long as you did, but the guy made an impression. We won’t forget him.”

Theo ignored the way Rand’s fit curled in and glowed a little; it was probably rude to stare. “No,” he replied. “We won’t.” Matt had never been forgettable, after all.

Rand took a bunch of cards from the counter before leaving and promised he’d send his buddies his way, and Theo tried to put that visit out of his mind. Rand might be somewhat famous, but he wasn’t the kind to have a bunch of followers on Instagram who’d follow his food tips, right? No need to work himself up hoping for more clients. Life, Theo knew, never had those moments of crowning victory with clients flocking to his shops and his debts erased in a snap of his fingers. You had to work at it, so work he did.

And then Foggy decided to run for Assistant DA. Without warning, and to get back at Fisk – because the bastard had somehow gotten out of prison. Theo wanted to support his brother, he really did; Foggy was doing good work. But the timing was _really_ not great. And when he had to ask him to withdraw… Look, yes, he knew what he’d signed wasn’t quite legit; he knew the older Asian lady who’d befriended Ma wasn’t just a card shark in their ladies’ poker club. On the night the club had met in the shop, he’d seen her small, sly smile when she’d looked at Foggy’s framed Columbia degree. It hadn’t been reassuring, more tiger shark than tiger mom by proxy.

But he was also well aware that if Nelson’s Meats was to survive, and with it his livelihood and their parents’, he never had a choice. Foggy might talk all he wanted about right or wrong, about the law; Theo was elbows-deep in the dirty realities of life. He was the one taking care of the family business; he was the one living one floor above their parents. Foggy had no right to lord his moral superiority over him.

The rift between them widened, but Foggy was too busy doing his thing anyway, right? And there in the Kitchen, people were busy with their own local drama: the return of Daredevil, or rather _a_ Daredevil – but not _their_ Daredevil. People read and heard about Fisk, about his deal with the FBI, or about the DA; but they talked about their local vigilante more. Was the old one back but somehow turned nasty? Or was the new guy in cheap black clothes not new at all, but the real one? Where had he been all this time?

Speculation about the DDs and their goals was more entertaining than Theo’s own life, and he enjoyed chatting about it with the clients.

“I’m telling you the black one’s the same guy as before, not the red one. It’s the ass, you know? He’s got the same ass. The red one doesn’t compare.”

“Hey, I don’t look at guy’s asses, you know?”

“Well, _I_ do!” Michelle laughed when her husband rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and Theo turned to take the next client’s order.

That was his life now, not very exciting but good enough: he spent his days at the shop, tried not to think too much about things, and let the days float past. The worry gnawing at his gut about his parents, about the shop, never stopped, but he ignored it as much as he could. It was just that he wasn’t very good at it.

One night, as he was walking back from an evening with some buddies back from when he took cooking classes, he almost got shot. He didn’t want to die between a smelly dumpster and a dirty wall, so when he heard the shot he flattened himself against the brick and hoped no one had seen him. All of a sudden, black-clothes Daredevil jumped down from… somewhere, right on the guy with a gun; Theo tried to look at what was happening but between the low light and the risk of being spotted he couldn’t see much.

The fight didn’t last long: some grunts, another gunshot, heavy thumps, and it was over. The guy trying to steal drugs from the other one was soon lying and groaning on the ground and DD had found something to tie them together. He pulled a phone from his pocket, made a quick call to the police using an old-fashioned Nokia of the kind Theo hadn't seen in years, and casually walked over to where Theo was hiding.

“Hey,” he said.

Nice butt, Theo had to agree. Kind of a silly voice, though. The mouth looked familiar somehow, but it was hard to say for sure in the dim light from the one streetlight that was still working. “Hey,” he managed.

“You alright? You almost got shot.”

“Yeah, I, uh. Took cover.” That’s what they said in the movies, right? “Thanks,” he added once he could remember that it was the polite thing to say. Ma Nelson might have her faults, but she’d raised her boys right.

“That was the smart thing to do,” Daredevil said. “They weren’t after you, but any witness…” He put a hand against the dumpster, and the movement made his clothes more visible. There was a stain on it, hard to see on the black fabric but the way it caught the light…

“You’re hurt,” Theo said. He knew what blood looked like; human blood looked just like animal blood.

Daredevil straightened and cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are. Come with me; I’ve got some first aid stuff at home. Least I can do after you saved my life, right?”

“You’re a butcher, though; I hope you’re not planning on turning me into steaks.”

That flash of white teeth… Theo had seen it before, but where? “Hey, I only do that on already dead people. Just stay alive, and you're good.”

“Not reassuring.” More teeth. “Look, it’s nothing; I don’t need…”

Theo wrapped his hand around one seriously toned forearm and started tugging Daredevil along. “Come on now, I owe you one.”

“Look, I have to…” He sighed. “There’s been a shooting at the Bulletin, and it might still be dangerous to be out on your own at night. I’ll walk with you to your place, then.”

“So you're coming with me for my own protection, then?” Daredevil’s lips quirked up. “Fine. I promise I won’t rat you out.” Surprisingly enough, DD didn’t protest, but after a couple of minutes Theo remembered something. “So, uh. How do you know I’m a butcher? Is it the way I shave, or the clothes, or…?”

Okay, the butt was nice and the teeth were quite something, especially for a guy who regularly engaged in face punching, but the laugh? The laugh was gold. “I’m not Sherlock Holmes,” Daredevil said. “I just know your shop.”

“So I know you?”

Daredevil didn’t answer, but by then they’d already arrived. Theo steered them to the stairs at the back of the shop, then up to the third floor; he unlocked his door and guided DD to the bathroom. The guy might have saved his life but that was no reason to let him bleed all over his furniture if it could be helped. Theo Nelson was a butcher, yes; he wasn’t going to faint at the idea of blood. But this was human blood, meant to stay inside the body, and he was not quite as comfortable with that. Even if he knew how to get it out of most fabrics.

Once the fleece jacket and the formerly white shirt he’d been wearing under it had been removed, Theo examined the cut and frowned.

“I don’t remember a knife,” he said. “The gun, yes, but not the knife.” Although he could have missed it, in the short glimpses he got from behind the dumpster.

“It happened just before; I was going back… uh, home, when I heard them.”

“Wait, you got slashed like that when – oh, you mentioned something at the Bulletin, yeah? Shit, I know someone who works there; I should call her.”

“She’s fine.”

“What?”

“Karen Page’s fine.”

Theo stopped trying to mop the half-dried blood on Daredevil’s (really nice, wow) chest. “How would you know…?”

“You’re Theo Nelson, and your brother is Foggy Nelson. Used to work with Karen Page, who wrote a few memorable Bulletin articles. I just… put two and two together.”

“Wow, you really know the neighborhood.” Theo resumed the mopping, and some older scars became visible. “Holy shit, how did you survive all this? I mean, you look like you’ve gone through a meat grinder.”

Daredevil squirmed and pushed Theo’s hand away as he stood up. “Sort of. Not quite. Look I should get back – thank you, but I really can’t stay. I’m in the middle of… it’s too dangerous. For you. But, uh. Just – Karen’s fine; Foggy’s fine. I won't let them come to harm, you understand? Or you. I _won’t_.”

Wow, the guy could be really intense. Which was… now was not the time to find him hot, ass or no ass (definitely ass). “Don’t move so much, you’re going to reopen the wound; it’s just started clotting.”

“I’ll be fine.” He took the ruined shirt and jacket and quickly put them on, and after turning his head left and right aimed right for the window. How he could see anything through the fabric covering his eyes was a mystery; there had to be a trick. “It’s late; you should, uh, sleep. Thanks for…” He patted his wound, now hidden by the fleece, and didn’t even flinch.

“You didn’t let me do anything.”

“You cared,” Daredevil said with a surprisingly soft smile. “That’s a lot. You take care, okay?”

Theo was treated to one last look at Daredevil’s butt as he left through the window, and he suddenly remembered why the smile was familiar. That last little twitch of the lips, he’d first seen it the day he’d taken a Nelson Special sandwich up to Matt, all those years ago. Except Matt was dead and he’d been blind; he’d been a lawyer and not a ninja. It couldn't be him, of course. It just had reopened the memory box. “You too,” he whispered long after Daredevil could have heard him. “You take care, too.” The guy didn’t deserve Matt’s fate.

Theo was ready to strangle Matt. Oh, and Foggy, of course. He was ready to strangle _everyone_. Here he was, beer in hand, smiling and making sandwiches and pretending everything was fine, totally fine.

Everything was _not_ fine. Those bastards had lied to him because Matt was alive, and Foggy had known for a while. On top of that, Matt _was_ Daredevil and Foggy had been in on it for _ever_ and Matt, that asshole, was playing it like Theo didn’t and couldn't know, couldn’t even have guessed. He’d lied to his face in Theo’s own bathroom. But Theo had guessed; he wasn’t stupid. Even now, as he was wearing his lawyer duds, Matt still sported some very visible bruises. How no one could tell… the slightly swollen knuckles, the cut over an eyebrow, the still-healing split lip… and they wanted to set up shop _here_ , in _his_ deli! He couldn't refuse but he wanted to, just out of spite.

They’d lied to him, taken him for granted, for an idiot; and yes, sure, fine, he’d made mistakes… but did he deserve that? Didn’t they fuck up, too? And so he seethed, thinking he should have decked Matt when he reappeared instead of hugging him, or maybe mock-punched him right where he knew he’d had that deep cut on the chest. You know, like a bro, right? Since he wasn’t supposed to know. It stung, it hurt, and he kept having to remind himself not to grind his teeth. He didn’t need to spend more money on dental work; even if the missing suppliers were miraculously back the deli’s financial situation wasn’t quite where it should be.

And so Theo kept smiling the fakest smiled he’d ever worn, and thought of making sriracha and jalapeño sandwiches for a certain law firm.

Foggy bumped his hip against his and settled against the counter by his side. “You alright, brother mine?”

“Sure. Why would you ask?”

“I don’t know, you look a bit… tense. Still money issues with the shop?”

“Nah, that’s better. It’s just been a rough time, you know? The ups and downs. Glad it’s over.”

“Yeah, same.” Foggy sighed. “I mean, Fisk is a nasty piece of business, so who knows if he’ll stay behind bars? But for now…”

“I’ll drink to that,” Theo said as he clinked his bottle against Foggy’s. “Hey, isn’t Marci coming?” This was, after all, the opening party for Nelson and Murdock; she should be around.

“She had to see a client, but she should be here in an hour or so. Someone’s got to bring in the bacon, you know.”

“Living on your girlfriend’s money… never pictured you as embracing the kept man career.”

“Ow, _Theo_! It’s only for a little while; I’ve convinced Matt that making a little money is not going to send him straight to hell. I don’t mind being paid in pies once in a while, but…”

Matt joined them. “Well, getting money to buy pies is pointless if we can get the pies straight away, right? Cuts out the middleman.”

“As much as it pains me to say so, one can’t only live on pie, Matty.”

“Well, what are you basing this statement on? I think…”

His argument was interrupted by Foggy’s phone, and Matt and Theo found themselves face to face.

“So,” Theo said.

“Your food is…”

“Shut – just shut up, Matt, okay? I know. I know, all right?”

“Ah. I thought you might, yes.”

“You thought I… you’re an asshole, you know that?” Theo tried to keep his voice down, but from Matt’s little frown he wasn’t really successful. “Oh, for… just come with me. I guess you know the way, right?”

Theo didn’t say anything else and made straight for the stairs, and Matt had better follow and drop the act. Once they were upstairs, he opened his door and let Matt in. He stood there in the entrance, both hands around his cane, his head tilted to the side.

“You’re angry,” he said. “You’re angry at me.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“I’m sorry. Really.”

“Oh, yeah? And what are you sorry for?” Theo turned his back on him and stalked to his old sofa. First piece of furniture he’d bought with his own money, that sofa. He’d never part with it. He watched Matt navigate to the chair a little further back. “You don’t even need that cane, do you?”

“Sometimes. When I’m focusing on other stuff, it helps. And, uh. I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“Not telling me what, Matt? How many years have we known each other? Sure, I’m not Foggy, I’m never Foggy, but still, I…” But that was it, of course. He wasn’t Foggy, and he’d never be. Foggy, the favored son, the much-loved, brilliant one; the good student and the brave lawyer going against corruption. Theo was just a butcher, running a deli and signing shady deals and…

“Foggy’s been my friend for years, you know that.” Matt stood up, leaving his cane against the chair, and walked to the sofa. “My _friend_ , Theo. Nothing more, nothing less. And these last few years… I haven’t really had time for anything else. Work, and… other stuff.”

“Daredevil.”

“Yes.”

“Why? What’s in it for you? There were – you’ve got so many scars.”

Matt shrugged. “Well, you know. You like feeding people; you like seeing them enjoy your stuff. Making them happy. You’re good at it, really good; the people in the Kitchen love coming here, having a chat, eating what you prepare. They’re our people; this is our city. You feed them; I… well. You know.” He fidgeted a bit; it was obvious that without his cane he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands. “I just want to help.”

“If you’re going to make a knuckle sandwich joke I’m going to make you eat your words.”

Matt smiled a little. “You just beat me to it.”

“You saved me; I took you home and I wanted to help you and you didn’t say anything, you ran away like a coward.”

“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this, but I’m working on it.”

“This?”

“Honesty. Not hiding, not the important things, not from the people that matter.”

Did Theo matter, then? Probably not, he was just one of the Kitchen folks. “You can’t save everyone.”

“Ha. Yeah, that’s what Foggy keeps saying. But I can keep trying, right?”

“Are you suicidal?”

Matt didn’t say anything for a too-long, worrying moment, then settled on a short, “No. It’s just, uh.” His fingers fluttered and he stuck them in his pockets. “I hear people. I hear you. I was a block away, and I heard the drug deal going south, and then I heard your heartbeat. The gunshot. I couldn’t not come.”

“You were already hurt.”

“Yes, well. Couldn’t let my favorite cook bleed out in a dirty alley, right?”

“Your favorite…”

“I still have fond memories of your Heartbreak Sandwich.”

“My… holy shit, that was years ago!”

“I think,” Matt said, “it was the combination of truffle oil and…”

“ _Seriously?_ ”

“I really liked it. Never forgot. You brought it up and you stayed the evening and you really didn’t have to, and I…”

“Wait.” Theo rewound the conversation a little. “You heard, and recognized, my heartbeat from a block away? What else can you do?”

“Well. That’s kind of my thing; my senses are… pretty good. Not sight, obviously.” Matt made the most awkward forced laugh Theo had ever heard.

“Obviously.” Not so obvious, not with the way Daredevil moved. This was all insane, and yet the evidence was standing right in front of him.

“I just, I hear things, I hear when people lie, when they’re excited; I can feel the way the air moves; I can smell things, smell people’s fear or… things. Arousal.” Matt licked his lips.

Jesus Christ, was Matt flirting with him? “Arousal,” Theo said feebly.

“If you’re wondering, yes, I’ve known for a while. First time we met, you… liked what you saw.”

Fuck. He was fucked, and not in a good way.

“But it was just… I never wanted to make you uncomfortable; you never seemed to actually want anything more, never acted on it. I thought you’d lost interest or simply preferred to keep things simple, and then it just would have put you at risk, and then…”

Theo cut him off. “And you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. What do you want?”

That little smile, damn. “Apart from a Heartbreak Sandwich?”

“ _Matt_.”

“Can I, um, touch your hair?”

Theo blinked. “Sure.” He got to his feet and stood right in Matt’s space, his face half a hand away from Matt’s. “Come on, do it.”

“I might not want to stop at hair.”

“I might not want you to stop at hair.”

“Oh, uh, that’s good. Yes.”

Matt’s fingers brushed Theo’s lips on their way, and okay, right, fine. Maybe the more-than-a-decade-long pining could finally be put behind them now, right?

Matt didn’t stop at hair, and Theo was absolutely fine with that. He’d waited long enough, after all.


End file.
